


Bored to Tears

by Willa Shakespeare (AnonEhouse)



Category: Blake's 7
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Emotional Manipulation, M/M, Sneakiness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-07
Updated: 2014-03-07
Packaged: 2018-01-14 22:32:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,269
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1281223
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnonEhouse/pseuds/Willa%20Shakespeare
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Blake has been sublimating his desire for Avon with Zen's help. It's easy to get carried away with your fantasies-- until they bleed over into real life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bored to Tears

**Author's Note:**

> Old fic (August of 2002) posted by request. Characterizations/motivations were stretched of necessity to fit the plot. You needn't point out the flaws, I know they exist, but removing them would render the story impossible.

(If you are reading this on any PAY site this is a STOLEN WORK, the author has NOT Given Permission for it to be here. If you're paying to read it, you're being cheated too because you can read it on Archiveofourown for FREE.)

Vila hesitated, hearing muffled sounds coming from the flight deck. He'd left something on the flight deck couch, and only just remembered it, half an hour into Blake's watch. It wasn't exactly against Blake's rules to read while you were on watch, but this particular print-out Zen had made for Vila hadn't any words.

They were all bored since they were weeks away from anything exciting- not that Vila was complaining, mind you- as 'exciting' when you were with Blake meant things leaping out of dark space trying to kill you. But not only were they all bored, Blake was restless and frustrated- itching to go blow up something or other. Since he couldn't do that he'd been taking it out on the crew with 'ship-handling drills' and 'morale-building sessions' and 'physical conditioning' and... well, Vila had been keeping a low profile. Drawing attention to himself was the last thing he wanted to do.

Vila listened more closely. He couldn't make out the words, but it was definitely Blake talking. No one seemed to be answering. He was probably having a heart-to-heart with Zen. Blake seemed to be trying to win the computer over to the rebellion, or maybe it was just practise for the rest of them. Sometimes Vila almost felt sorry for Blake, trying to lead this bunch of non-conformists. Almost.

Probably Blake hadn't even noticed Vila's property. If Vila timed it right, Blake would have his back to the entrance and be emoting with all his attention on his imaginary audience. Sneak in, grab and be out again before Blake even knew anyone was about. That was the ticket.

Vila crept up to the entrance and flattened himself against the bulkhead, concentrating on not making any noise rather than on listening to Blake. He got into position and then peered around the edge of the opening.

And froze. His mouth had gone dry before he realized his jaw had been hanging open for several minutes as he stood mesmerized by the scene before him. Blake... Blake was... oh, no. Poor Avon.

What should he do? Blake oughtn't to...Vila winced. That had to be hurting and tied and gagged the way he was, Avon couldn't fight back- couldn't even protest... couldn't even scream... Blake must have gone mad. He'd have to set Avon free sometime, and when he did, Avon would kill him. Or was Blake planning to kill Avon? He could do it and dump his body, and tell everyone that he'd made a detour and dropped Avon off on a planet while they were all sleeping.

Vila was horrified, but then common sense reasserted itself. There wasn't a planet within teleport range, hadn't been for days. Blake couldn't imagine he'd fool Jenna even if he thought the rest of them would believe it. Maybe Blake was going to drug Avon, to make him forget? Maybe Blake had been raping Avon every night since they'd escaped from the _London_? Maybe that was why he could put up with Avon's bickering during the day... Vila was sick, but he was also excited. It was shameful, but watching the way Blake plowed into Avon, the filthy things he said, the wide-eyed look of helpless fury on Avon's face above the gag... Vila was responding, against his wishes. He never liked pain, neither the giving nor the receiving of it, but he couldn't deny the sheer sexual power of it, the very idea of Blake's calm control, shattered, of Avon forced to serve another man...

But he couldn't just stand here and do nothing! He should stop it. Stop Blake? Naked and sweaty, ramming himself into Avon, Blake looked even more powerful than usual. No one could stop Blake. He didn't think even Gan could stop Blake. He could see himself rushing forward and Blake pinning him with that Alpha-Leader gaze, reducing Vila to a babbling wreck. It would only make it worse for Avon to know that someone witnessed him being used.

But he couldn't let this go on. Maybe he could get Gan and Jenna and Cally. Avon would still hate them all, but...no, that wouldn't be any good. If the others saw, they'd all want to leave. It was too late for that. They were all on the most-wanted list. _Liberator_ and each other were all they had standing between them and a swift, or not so swift -if they were really unlucky- death. Blake might be a horrible pervert, but he was also their leader, the only thing holding them together, giving them any chance at all.

Avon was a survivor. He'd want to live, might even be willing to...oh... what if Avon had agreed to this? What if all that struggling was an act? If they were just playing Alpha games and he interfered, it would be his body dumped out the airlock. Or worse. Avon could be nasty, but Vila had a feeling Blake's cold anger would be even harder to live with.

Vila had no idea how long he stood there, unable to decide what to do, but eventually it was over. Blake gave a deep grunt, and collapsed on top of Avon, panting. He stirred almost immediately, pulling out and sitting up to gaze down at Avon's limp, unresisting form with such melancholy eyes that Vila was confused all over again. Blake looked as if he were more miserable than Avon.

Blake reached out to Avon, but stopped with his hand bare inches from Avon's back. He shook his head and sighed. "Zen," Blake ordered, "cease Intruder Defense System sub-program one Alpha one."

"Confirmed " 

And Avon vanished. Vila stared, but the huddled body on the flight deck floor was gone as if it had never existed. Which apparently, it hadn't. Blake sighed again, picked up a cloth and began cleaning himself.

Vila gulped, pulled himself together, and left as silently as he'd arrived. He had to do something, didn't he? Warn Avon about Blake? But if he did, Avon would try to kill Blake, or he'd leave, and Vila was fairly sure that the first one of them to leave would begin the break-up of the group. No, he couldn't tell Avon, he couldn't tell anyone.

Vila decided what to do. He had to get very, very, very drunk and maybe when everything was nicely blurred, he'd be able to convince himself that he was drunk before he saw what must have been an hallucination. There wasn't anything really worth drinking on board this miserable teetotal alien ship, but the medical unit had some relaxants you could swallow, if you didn't mind the taste. At the moment, Vila wasn't at all picky.

***

Blake was on the late 'night'-watch again. It probably wasn't necessary, as Zen had orders to rouse the whole ship if it detected any other ships or potential hazards, but Blake felt a constant human presence on the flight deck was a sensible precaution, so in addition to the main twelve-hour watch they had designated two four-hour watches arbitrarily as early and late 'night', setting the rota so they each served one night out of three. Mostly whoever was on the night-watch dozed on the flight deck couch in between bouts of whatever activity each favored. Gan said he studied, and Cally meditated. Jenna set the controls to simulator, and practised maneuvers. Vila claimed to be constantly alert, but somehow Blake doubted it, particularly after finding a stack of print-outs of women wearing nothing but fur coats, precious stones, and smiles.

Blake found it rather endearing and was careful not to mention it. He was hardly in a position to criticize. Not when he had gone to such a great deal of effort to adapt Zen's defenses to Blake's needs. Zen had been sympathetic, Blake thought. Certainly the computer had been more forthcoming about the methodology of expanding a relatively simple program into a holographic, full-sensory and force-field linked recreational aid than he had been about explaining the teleport.

Blake wondered what Avon did with his night-watches. Not that he'd ask. It would be too personal, even if Avon didn't reciprocate and ask what Blake did. He had decided on the _London_ that getting too close to Kerr Avon was an unacceptable risk. Not so much to Blake as to his cause. He couldn't afford the distraction. He shouldn't allow himself the night-watch games, but the harshness of the fantasy simultaneously reminded him how Avon would likely respond to an attempted seduction and gave him much-needed physical release. It wouldn't do to get them all killed during a battle because he was distracted by the sight of Avon's bum in the increasingly tighter trousers the man had taken to wearing. Flaunting himself at all of them, while keeping them all at bay with his acid wit. Perhaps that was Avon's fantasy. To tease and never be touched. Blake certainly couldn't imagine a biddable, gentle Avon, which is why the illusion-Avon had to be forced.

He considered whether he ought to allow himself a game tonight. He tried not to do it too often. There was always the thinnest possibility that someone would come to the flight deck while the program was running, but it was impossible to move the equipment so he had to play here. That added to the experience in a way, that extra little frission of panic sending adrenaline  
racing through his system every time he imagined he heard a noise from the corridor, imagined someone standing there, watching from the doorless entrances to the flight deck. But there never was, of course. Blake had assured that by assigning tedious make-work tasks to anyone who showed up during his watch in the first weeks on board the ship. Even Gan had decided that Blake didn't need company after one session of polishing the 'brightwork'. 

The last time Blake had given in had been... three of his night-watches ago? Yes, that was it. He'd stumbled across Vila's sweet little cache of erotica, and the loneliness had been too much. As it was now.

"Zen, initiate Intruder Defense System sub-program one Alpha one."

"Confirmed."

Blake sat back and attempted to relax. To make the experience more real, Zen would have 'Avon' appear at some randomly chosen moment in the next hour. Blake never knew how 'Avon' would be dressed, or exactly what he would say. Zen was constantly observing Avon and his interactions with Blake, and modifying the behavior modules of the simulacra accordingly. The only constants in the game were that Avon fought, fought with everything he had, and lost. 

 

 

"Blake."

Blake turned, casually, face perfectly calm, belying the sudden leap in his pulse-rate. He looked back over his shoulder to see his nemesis, his demon-lover, dressed appropriately all in blood-red leather, tight as a second skin and stiff as armor-plate. "Avon. Come to keep me company?"

"Hardly." Avon's lip curled. "It may not have occurred to you, but Zen's selective obedience is a danger to us all." He brandished a laser-probe. "I intend to eliminate that danger."

"In the middle of the night?"

"I don't like crowds. In fact, I would much prefer it if you left this watch to me. Use the free time to plot your next daring raid, why don't you?" The laser-probe circled in Avon's fingers, the only outward sign of the nervous tension that always stretched between them.

"What precisely do you intend to do?"

"Eliminate the censor-circuitry. Zen vets all our... excuse me... all your commands, compares them to a list of exclusions and only acts upon the ones that are allowed. I intend to locate that list and eradicate it. No list, no comparisons, no more refusals at awkward moments."

"You mean to brain-wipe Zen?" Blake stood up then.

"Zen does not have a brain, so that is not a correct description. I am going to edit a program to increase its utility."

"You're going to remove Zen's free will. I told you before, he is a member of this crew, as much as you or I."

" _It_ " Avon emphasized with deliberation, "is a highly sophisticated computer, capable of running this ship entirely without a human crew. I dislike being superfluous. I particularly dislike being vulnerable to the vagaries of an improperly programmed machine."

Blake came close to Avon and crossed his arms over his chest. He bit at a thumbnail, then shook his head. "No. I won't permit you to reprogram Zen's personality."

"For the one-hundredth time, Blake. THAT is a machine," Avon said, waving at Zen's 'reference point', which continued to placidly pulse in shades of gold and ochre. "IT does not have a personality, merely a set of responses. IT does not THINK, and it most certainly does not feel. Now, if you will excuse me, I will continue in my efforts to overcome your lemming-like drive for mutual annihilation." Avon pushed past Blake and knelt at the base of Zen's main computer console-link.

"Enough!" Blake shouted, and was gratified to see Avon drop the laser probe and look up at him. "I have had quite enough of you disobeying my orders."

Avon's upturned face flushed. "And I have had quite enough of you giving them. What gives you the right to issue orders to me?"

"I have that right because it is the only way we will ever accomplish anything."

"No, you do not. You assumed the leadership of _Liberator_ the same way a spoiled child assumes that every desirable object he sees belongs to him. If it weren't for Jenna playing the protective mother..." Avon stopped talking.

"You mean, if it weren't for Jenna's loyalty, you would have left me to die on Cygnus Alpha." Blake stooped, grabbed Avon by the shoulders and shook him, hard, fingers digging in bone-deep. Avon's eyes flew open in startlement. "You don't give a damn about anyone other than yourself, do you? Did it ever occur to you that Vila and Gan would have died, too? That Arco did die, while you were preventing Jenna from teleporting us to safety?"

"So, she told you. I hope you rewarded her properly." Avon sneered. "She would do anything for a night in your arms."

"Jealous, are you? Is that the problem? Well, I can take of that." Blake pushed Avon's shoulders to the deck and knelt astride him. He leaned forward, shifting one hand to Avon's throat and pressed down hard enough to threaten. His other hand went down to Avon's crotch, pushing up the hem of the tight-fitting tunic to grope firmly between Avon's legs.

Avon gasped and froze for an instant. "Are you out of your MIND?!" He began struggling, but Blake had Avon by the throat and the balls and he squeezed with both hands. The sound that Avon emitted could not be classified as a scream, but no one would have mistaken it for a moan of pleasure, either. Blake slackened both grips and leaned even closer, until he was breathing in Avon's face.

"You have been asking for this since the first day on the _London_."

Avon coughed, choked, and shook his head. "Let me go!" He arched up and Blake moved back, but the instant Avon had risen to a sitting position, Blake pulled Avon's tunic over his head and then down behind his shoulders to his elbows, pinning Avon's arms behind him. The black knit shirt beneath followed, locking Avon's arms tighter than a strait-jacket.

Blake pushed Avon onto his back. "You look beautiful when you're angry," Blake commented. As Avon struggled and cursed Blake reached past him and retrieved the laser probe. He changed the setting with a casual flick of his thumb. "Still!" he ordered. "I don't particularly want to damage you, but I'm not afraid of getting a little more blood on my hands."

"Blake. Stop this. Stop this now," Avon said, quietly. He was lying still, eyes seeking Blake's. "Before it goes too far."

"It already has, my dear," Blake said softly. He tugged on Avon's black shirt and used the laser probe to cut strips from it, taking care not to burn into the skin beneath. "As you have pointed out so clearly, you refuse to admit my leadership. In the animal kingdom, there are two ways one male proves his superiority over another. They fight -sometimes to the death- or the larger, stronger male forces the other to submit sexually."

"We aren't animals," Avon said, eyes going from the burning laser-probe back to the calmness in Blake's face. "The others follow you. I can't take the ship by myself. You don't have to do this."

"No? Perhaps you're right." Blake opened Avon's trousers, and fondled the softness he found there. Avon's eyes went even darker. "But maybe I want to." Blake unzipped his own trousers, and pulled out the evidence. "Yes. I do believe I want to."

Avon lunged suddenly, knocking Blake to one side. Avon got to his feet awkwardly and backed away from Blake. "I don't give a damn what you want," Avon said. He began backing towards the exit from the flight deck, arms still tangled behind him. "If you come near me, I'll kill you. Don't think I won't."

"I think you would. But I don't think you can." Blake strode forward. Avon jumped up and lashed out with one foot suddenly, landing a solid blow to Blake's shoulder. Blake staggered back, rubbing at his shoulder. "Good try, but not good enough."

"I didn't miss," Avon said. "The next one crushes your windpipe. It's an ugly way to die. Don't make me do it."

"Oh, but Avon, that's the whole point. I'm going to make you do whatever I say. From now on. On the flight deck, and in my cabin."

"You think so, do you?" Avon was continuing to edge backwards while he spoke.

"I know so." Avon's trousers had shifted, no longer held together by the zipper, further opened by the violence of Avon's kick. Blake jumped forward, and as he'd figured, Avon's kick was thrown off by the impediment of his clothing, right foot skimming by Blake's right side. Blake snapped his right arm down, trapping Avon's foot high in the air. Avon hopped on his other foot trying desperately to retain his balance.

Blake stroked the underside of Avon's leg, petting the tense muscles and kneading, not quite gently. "Now, as I was saying..." He pulled, forcing Avon to hop closer, until they were groin to groin. He put his free hand behind Avon and ran his fingers up the center seam of the red leather trousers.

Avon opened his mouth and took a deep breath, but Blake had been expecting this, the last resort, and he punched Avon in the solar plexus, hard enough to temporarily paralyze breathing, giving Avon a higher priority than resistance. While Avon floundered in panic, unable even to gasp, Blake quickly lowered him to the deck and removed Avon's boots and trousers, socks and underpants. He picked up the fabric strips he'd cut and arranged Avon belly-down on the deck, legs outspread and tied by the ankles to the support posts for two flight deck seats. Once he had Avon secured he rubbed Avon's belly until a sudden intake of breath rewarded his efforts.

Blake sat back on his heels and gazed at Avon, who had turned his head to the side, one glittering eye visible, still furious rather than frightened. Avon said, "Go ahead, then. But remember this. I will kill you."

"Will you? Maybe it would be worth it." Blake massaged Avon's buttocks, producing a hiss of pure rage. "You have a beautiful arse. In fact, you are very probably the most beautiful man I have ever seen."

Avon's color was high, but Blake couldn't decide whether it was indicative of embarrassment, bottled-up fury or simply impaired circulation. Blake fondled Avon for a few more moments, whispering increasingly graphic descriptions of what he was going to do in an increasingly deep and lust-filled voice while Avon cursed him quite imaginatively. Then Blake stood up and stripped. He looked down at Avon while he leisurely stroked his cock to full erection. "Now, let me see. Should I gag you? It seems a pity to hide that pretty mouth, but then, I don't particularly care to listen to your screaming. It might disturb my loyal crew's rest. They might come to your rescue." Blake found another length of cloth, tied a bulky knot in the middle, and knelt. 

"No, no!" Avon said as the gag came close. He twisted his head aside. "Don't! I won't scream."

Blake sat back on his heels and considered. Usually Zen had Avon fight the gag, but never protest against it in words. This seemed more appropriate, more Avon, somehow. Avon would rather be raped in silence than be rescued and pitied. "All right. I don't particularly mind what you say, just keep it quiet."

"You think you're safe," Avon said softly. "You imagine that I wouldn't dare to kill you."

"No, Avon, I never thought that," Blake replied just as quietly. He went to his discarded trousers and pulled out a tube of gel from a pocket. "Would you care for some lubrication, or would you rather have it hurt so you could hate me?"

Avon showed his teeth. "Nothing could possibly increase the depth of the hatred I feel for you."

"That isn't what I asked," Blake said patiently. "Last chance." He motioned as if to toss the lube aside.

Avon dropped his head to the deck. "Use it," he said wearily. "I do not care to compete with you for the role of martyr."

Blake hesitated. 'Avon' normally was very proud about refusing the lube. Still, it wouldn't do for him to interrupt the game in order to question Zen. For one thing, his cock wouldn't stand for that much delay. "A wise decision," he said. "Preserve your strength for the fight, eh?"

"Pre...cisely," Avon replied, gasping as Blake shoved two greased fingers up Avon's arse.

Blake's mouth opened and he began panting, thinking of how delicious it would feel to be once more encased in Avon. Avon was ice on the outside, but quite warm where Blake meant to go. "Lovely, sweetheart, you are so beautiful it makes a man want to cry."

Avon snorted. "You'll have cause enough for tears later."

Blake rubbed Avon's neck. "Don't be a poor loser. I thought better of you than that."

"This isn't a game," Avon snarled, twisting his head, but unable to shake off Blake's hand.

"Of course it is. You've been playing with me since we met. It was always, 'ask nicely, and I might cooperate'. I've just changed the rules. I'm not asking any more. I'm taking." He greased his cock, lined himself up, and spread Avon's buttocks with both hands. The skin was cool and smooth, damp with sweat and slick with lube. He pushed in, feeling Avon's muscles tighten, resisting him. He leaned forward and whispered into Avon's ear, "I like when you do that. It's so tight. You do it to please me, don't you? You really have been crying out for this. I'm sorry I've made you wait for it." He pushed hard, fully encasing himself, then began thrusting steadily. "You've always wanted... someone to master you... to tell you what to do. Someone to force you... to feel. To stop... analyzing and... forever calculating... before you take a step. Before... you'd take a chance." Blake kept the rhythm slow enough that he could still think. He enjoyed making Avon listen to him. Not as much as he enjoyed fucking Avon, but why not have both pleasures at once? He stroked Avon's sides, reaching up to feel the flutter of Avon's heart, as frantic as a captured bird's. "You're getting excited... aren't you..." Blake thrust particularly hard, and was rewarded by Avon's involuntary groan and internal clench.

"Don't...ah... don't think you can...um... fuck with my mind as well," Avon said, breath pushed out with each thrust of the heavy body atop him.

"Oh, well, then," Blake replied, "I'll just have to fuck your arse twice as hard..." He pounded up Avon's backside, hands grasping slender hips hard enough to leave finger-shaped bruises. "Just think..." Blake shook his head, sending sweat droplets flying. "Just think, I'm assuming the responsibility." He gulped air and thrust several more times, rapidly. It was easier now. Avon was more open to him, too emotionally exhausted to fight. "You're my victim. Innocent. Helpless." Blake felt his balls shifting, and he hastily shoved himself fully into Avon, then forced himself to stillness, delaying the rush to orgasm by pure will-power. "You don't have to do anything, just lie there and take it. Tell yourself that it doesn't matter. That you didn't surrender to me."

Avon moaned, and it was not a sound of pain. Blake kissed the back of Avon's neck. "That's right. Even if it feels wonderful, it's not your fault." He caressed Avon's buttocks and circled his hips, letting his cock gently stroke Avon deep inside.

"Nooo...." Avon shook his head and gasped.

Blake paused and pulled back on Avon's hips, rising until they were both kneeling, Avon precariously balanced with his ankles stretched out to the sides and his knees spread wide. Blake reached under, felt the stiffness of Avon's cock and laughed. "There. Now, tell me it's just a physiological response." He pulled back until only the tip of his cock was within Avon and waited. 

Avon moaned and his hips rose, helplessly seeking sensation.

"You don't want me to stop now, do you?" Blake stroked Avon's balls, loving the soft whimper his action evoked from Avon. "It's been too long, hasn't it? You've been so busy scheming against me that you've forgotten you have a body, that it has needs. That it has demands. And now you're going to cooperate while I screw you into the deck, not because I've tied you, not because I'm stronger than you, but because, in your heart, you know I am the only one who could ever make you do anything and you must always fight yourself not to give in to me. Despite yourself, you love me for it."

Avon turned his head to one side, looking at Blake over his shoulder. "No. And if ever there was a chance that I might have, you have destroyed it."

Blake shook his head, sadly. "Ah, Avon. Why do you have to be like this?"

"Me? Why do _I_?" Avon laughed, then said, softly, "You really are something, Blake." He turned his face away, and muttered, "Finish it. I want it over. I want it over _now_."

Blake felt the last of the resistance go out of the body he held. "Yes. It's time." He pulled completely out of Avon, revelling in the inarticulate protest and the way Avon's eyes widened in desperation. "Shh. It's all right." Blake quickly found the laser probe. "I want to see your face when you come," he said, as he sliced up the back of Avon's remaining garments and through the ties holding Avon's ankles apart.

Avon's arms came forward and he yanked off the ruined tunic and shirt, tossing them to the deck. "It's always been about what you want, hasn't it, Blake?" Avon said in a soft, venomous voice. "And in your twisted mind, you honestly believe that what Roj Blake wants should be the model for the universe. Even if you destroy it to save it. You've been practising on me all along. I wonder, what is the galactic equivalent of forcible rape?"

Blake was becoming angry. Zen was going too far. "Leave then," he said.

Avon shook his head, slowly. "No. I'll finish what you started." Abruptly Avon lunged forward, grasped Blake's head in both hands and kissed him roughly. He snapped his head aside and said, "Then I'll leave." He got up and went to the flight deck couch, ripping loose the cushions and piling them on the floor in an untidy heap. He lay down on his back, put both hands around his cock and stared up at Blake, who hesitated. "You may as well," Avon said, "you are going to pay for it whether you do or not."

"I always pay, Avon. Always." Blake fell to his knees in the scattered cushions and reached for Avon's mouth again.

"No," Avon turned his head. "One face-to-face fuck. That's what you're paying for, and that's all you're getting."

Blake sighed. Perhaps he ought to ask Zen to make 'Avon' less authentic. But then... "All right." Blake picked up Avon's legs and spread them to fit about his waist. He fumbled for a moment, then shoved hard.

Avon grunted, and his legs reflexively tightened on Blake, then relaxed slightly. "Go on."

Blake had held off long enough. His balls were tight and full, and his cock was about as hard as _Liberator's_ herculaneum hull. He thrust hard, balls swinging to slap against Avon's arse, then pulled back and did it again. Avon was making soft noises now, as he pulled on his own balls and jerked at his own cock, but Blake wasn't really listening. It was enough that he could see Avon, all flushed and disheveled, sweaty fringe falling over his eyes. Avon, perfect lips spread wide. Avon, furred chest heaving as he tried to breathe under Blake's assault. Avon, shutting his long-lashed eyes and throwing his head back, slender throat revealing cords of strong muscle.Avon, bucking beneath Blake and clamping down internally as Avon's cock shot between his clenched fists. Avon, teeth showing as he let out a strangled noise that Blake, even as his own orgasm hit, recognized as Avon keeping his vow not to scream.

And then it was over.

Blake was hot and tired, and sticky. He was also depressed. He pulled himself free and muttered, "Why do I do this to myself?"

Avon's eyes shot open, and he stared up at Blake. "To YOURSELF?"

Blake turned to Zen, unwilling to look any longer at the computer simulation of his dearest wishes and his darkest desires. "Zen," Blake ordered, "cease Intruder Defense System sub-program one Alpha one."

"Confirmed." 

Blake sighed and turned back to pick up the cushions and put the flight deck to rights. He actually reached out before he realized that the cushions weren't empty. "ZEN! I ordered you to cease Intruder Defense System sub-program one Alpha one."

"Confirmed. Program has been cancelled prior to manifestation of similacrum."

"Prior..." Blake stared at Avon in dawning horror.

Avon stood up. His knees trembled, and he grasped at the couch back for support. "I'll be leaving now. Don't try to stop me."

"Avon? It's you?" Zen had to be wrong. That _must_ have been the program. He couldn't have... no... it must be a mistake.

Avon's eyes narrowed. "I don't believe the 'diminished capacity' defense is currently acceptable in a Federation court, and it certainly isn't going to work on me."

"Avon!" Blake reached out, and Avon went totally still.

"Again? I do hope you are keeping track of the time," Avon said viciously. "I have no desire to perform that degrading act in front of an audience."

"You're real. Zen didn't..."

Avon's eyes flickered. For a moment he looked uncertain. Then his face hardened again. "It's very good, but I'm not buying it. You are no more insane than I am."

"Avon."

"That is my name. Now, if you will kindly get out of my way, I am going to my quarters to pack."

"This wasn't supposed to happen!" Blake held up his hands. "Let me explain." Avon swayed slightly, and Blake said, "But first, let's get you to the medical-unit. I might have... damaged you."

Avon scowled, then he said. "I'm fine. And if I were _dying_ , you're the last person I'd allow to touch me."

"Then I'll call Cally or Gan."

"Not on your life. Literally." Avon walked up to Blake, threat in every movement, and not the slightest hint of fear. "I am leaving this flight deck, and I am leaving this ship, and I am leaving _you_. Oh, you needn't worry about your reputation," Avon sounded bitter. "I'm sure you, with your talent for reading people, knew that I would never expose myself to public humiliation by telling what you did. You were counting on that. Well, you won't be using me ever again, in _any_ capacity."

Blake's hands fell to his sides. "Will you let me explain? You can do whatever you like afterwards, but..."

"Can I? Oh, that is uncommonly generous of you." Avon looked at Blake. "What I would _like_ would be to have some remote chance of survival. Since you have linked my name with your doomed rebellion, my best chance would be to stay on the _Liberator_. You have just made that impossible."

"Stay, Avon. I'll never touch you again, I swear it."

Avon shook his head. "No."

"You're waiting for me to offer to leave the ship."

Avon gave Blake a brittle smile. "Frankly, I doubt I should live that long." Avon turned his head away from Blake. "I also doubt the others will outlive me, without even the meagre check on your recklessness that I was able to provide."

"And do you care?"

Avon's smile flashed again, even more blatantly false. "What do you think?"

Blake deliberately shut off his own feelings. He had lost Avon, but then, he had never had Avon, not really. He had lost Avon's technical skills, which was more to the point. Avon was right in that his loss was a severe blow to the _Liberator's_ effectiveness and if the others ever found out why Avon had left, it would destroy them as a crew. Thinking strictly in terms of the rebellion, perhaps it _would_ be better to give him the ship. Blake could join any planetary based rebellion, or contact Avalon or some other established leader and offer his services. He might serve the cause better that way. But only if _Liberator_ would not be misused in his absence.

"What would you do?"

"Do?"

"If I were to leave the _Liberator_ , what would you do?"

Avon blinked. "Not what you would do. I would not spend my days demolishing installations purely for the pretty fireworks."

"Avon." Blake took a deep breath. "Would you fight the Federation?"

Avon's mouth turned down. "I would have no choice, unless I took the ship out beyond human-inhabited space. While that would be restful for me, I do not think the others would appreciate it. I could, of course, deposit them at gun-point on some pleasant neutral planet with enough wealth to give them the illusion of safety while I go on in solitary splendor."

Blake nodded. "You could. But you wouldn't. You're still human enough that you couldn't live entirely without other people."

"In any case, it's a moot point. You need the ship for your unholy Cause."

"Perhaps. I need the ship fighting the Federation. I would like to be the one directing that fight, but if I could not, then I would like you to have her."

Avon's head snapped up. "What is this? Guilt speaking? Or am I to be suddenly stricken by your noble sacrifice, and offer to forgive you?"

"No. Under the circumstances I think it would be better if you took her. I'll trust you, Avon. If you say you'll fight, then I believe you'll keep your word."

Avon said, "You'll go?"

"If I must, to keep this crew together."

"And you'll tell the others some plausible lie that will make them accept my command?"

Blake kept his eyes on Avon's as he nodded. "Yes. On one condition."

"There's always a condition, isn't there? What is it?"

"You let me check you out in the medical unit, and listen to my explanation. You don't have to believe it, but I need to tell it."

"That's two conditions," Avon pointed out.

"Avon."

Avon inclined his head. "Very well. I should hardly balk at your breast-baring, considering that I've already seen everything else you have. I will permit the medical computer to analyze my condition and you may observe. You will not touch me."

"But if you need..."

Avon shook his head.

Blake decided not to press the issue. Avon was not about to risk his life if he really needed treatment.

Blake took a moment to put the flight-deck couch to rights and get dressed while Avon pulled on his trousers and boots and gathered up the rest of his clothes, even the scraps from his shredded shirt.

They left the flight deck in silence, side by side, but more coldly separate than if they'd been on different planets. At the first disposal chute Avon deposited the bundle of clothing and paused. He gazed at the chute with an odd expression on his face. He glanced at Blake. " _Liberator's_ recycling system is interesting, don't you think? Everything is constantly being broken down and returning in a new form, spotless, with no visible connection to the past."

"People aren't like that," Blake said softly. "Even when you mind-wipe them, the past has a way of returning."

"Yes." Avon turned and walked the rest of the way to the medical unit in silence.

 

Matter-of-factly, Avon stripped and lay belly-down on the diagnostic couch. Blake swung the equipment over the table and turned it on. Noting the bunched muscles in Avon's shoulders, he said, "I'm not touching you, but I do need to position the sensors."

"Go ahead."

Blake arranged everything to his satisfaction, then activated the diagnostic scanner. He pulled up a chair and sat down where he would be within Avon's range of vision. "It will take a few minutes to make a full assessment," he said unnecessarily, as they all were quite familiar with the seemingly interminable wait while devices clicked and hummed and chittered to themselves. "I might as well begin my explanation now, and save us both some time." 

Avon said nothing, but he turned his head slightly, so that he was staring at Blake.

"I was using Zen's anti-intruder device, reprogrammed as... a recreational aid." 

Avon's eyebrows rose. "Do go on," he said politely.

"Ever since the Federation mucked with my mind, my sexuality has been... elusive. It wasn't that I'd forgot what sex was like, or what my preferences were, it was simply that it was... unimportant. Whenever I felt the need, I would masturbate, without even thinking about anyone. It was on the same emotional level as scratching an itch.

"And then they murdered another group of people, and let me live, again, but this time they accused me of raping children." Blake ran a hand through his hair. "I still don't know whether they simply faked the records, or if they mind-wiped the children so they believed it, or even if..." He shook his head again.

"Even if what, Blake?" Avon prompted when Blake didn't continue.

Blake blinked, then gave Avon a wan smile when he saw that Avon was looking concerned. "I was groggy, Avon. They gave me something when they captured me, before they processed me and put me in a cell to await my trial. I can't be absolutely certain that... that the children... that while drugged and susceptible to suggestion I hadn't..." Blake went silent again.

"On the face of it, it would appear an unneccesary risk," Avon replied. "They could hardly bring children to the confinement facility without arousing suspicion, and removing you to some neutral place where the children could be conveniently brought while you were coaxed into committing an act which I am certain you would have resisted quite strenuously, and then removing the memory from your mind and returning you to your cell...no, it's implausible."

Blake felt a bit of the ice in his stomach melt. Avon, in his logical, non-emotional way, was trying to console Blake. "Well, after that, I was sentenced to Cygnus Alpha and all I could think about was somehow destroying a system so corrupt that they thought nothing of abusing children, of murdering the innocent, of treating the entire human race as a herd of livestock.

"They took truth and honor and beauty out of the vocabulary and replaced them with expedience and obedience and sanitized uniformity. And then I met you.You were everything they'd taken away from me."

Avon frowned. "Hardly."

Blake rested his chin on his clenched fist. "Everything," Blake stated firmly. 

"Truth, honor and beauty? I don't think you have been listening to me very clearly, Blake."

"On the contrary, I listen to all the things you don't say."

The equipment beeped, and Blake got up and pressed the button that would provide an audible report as well as a print-out.

Avon sat up.

The computer reported, "Minor tissue damage to the anus. Superficial bruising to the torso, buttocks and thighs. Recommended treatment: soft-tissue regenerator, and an application of a topical antibiotic to areas of broken skin."

Avon slid off the table. "There, you see? No real harm done." Avon reached for his trousers. "I have a regenerator pad and a tube of suitable ointment in my quarters. I can take care of it myself."

Blake held out his hand. "I hadn't finished, Avon."

Avon paused, then continued putting on the trousers. "What else can there be to say? You used Zen to create a copy of me, because you found me irresistable. Even if I believe you, being used in effigy is very nearly as unpalatable as the actuality."

"You promised you'd let me finish."

Avon sighed. "All right, but do get on with it. I'm tired."

"I think I fell in love with your voice first," Blake mused. "And then I found myself enjoying your wit. And then, one day, quite suddenly, I realized that I loved all of you, that even the things that you did that annoyed me were dear to me."

Avon looked pained. "Please, Blake, could we just stick to the facts. If any?"

"I thought it was just as well that you resented my authority, because if you'd given me the slightest encouragement I would not have been able to hide my feelings. And I needed to. I couldn't afford the distraction."

"You also couldn't afford to alienate Jenna," Avon said quietly. "If you lost your pilot once she realized that she hadn't a hope of laying you by the heels..."

"I did tell Jenna, back on the _London_ about my sexual preferences- without naming names. But we're not talking about Jenna. We're talking about us, about our feelings."

"About _your_ feelings," Avon said pointedly. "I haven't any. Except for a feeling that this is going on far too long."

Blake quelled Avon with a look. "The real problem became apparent when we were caught in that web. Geela burned your hand. I would have let her kill me before I would give in, but when she hurt you -- I gave her the means to destroy an entire feeling, thinking race of beings to save you."

"The Decimas hardly qualify as..." Avon looked at Blake. "Well, I suppose to you, they do. So you were human, Blake, led by your balls as most men are. You desired me, and so you preserved my life. It's hard-wired into the primitive brain. Man protects his mate."

Blake shook his head. "No, that wasn't the problem. I'd known for some time that I wouldn't be able to sacrifice you, not without dying myself. What bothered me was afterward, when Geela threatened to kill you. You said nothing. You waited for my decision."

Avon shrugged. "If you had made the wrong one, I assure you I would have spoken."

"Would you? Would you, really, Avon? Or is it possible that you love me too?"

"Right. I've heard enough." Avon was halfway to the door when Blake caught up with him. He whirled and glared at Blake. "Don't! You are amazing, you know that? You are the galaxy's biggest hypocrite. You rail on endlessly about the Federation's inhumane control, but you don't care to hear any dissention from the people who've been stuck with you as leader.

"In your spare time, you analyze us and decide just how best to manipulate us. The Federation may drug and murder its citizens, but it seldom asks them to believe that they begged to be abused." Avon hissed the last word.

"AVON!" Blake shouted, and then fell to his knees. "Avon," he whispered. "Don't do this to me. I know you hate me now, but at least let me remember that once you loved me." He looked up at Avon. His face was still dignified, but as he stared up at Avon, tears welled, and began a steady flow down his face. Blake ignored it, looking up at Avon through the sheen of tears.

Avon jerked his head to one side as if he'd been slapped. "You know nothing."

Blake was silent, but his eyes were eloquent.

Avon began rubbing his own hands, while he looked down into Blake's eyes. "You think that love is the great healer. That it overcomes all opposition. That once someone admits they love you, everything will be all right. It doesn't work that way." Avon dropped down and put his hands on Blake's shoulders. "What does it take to make you stop loving me?"

"I don't know." Blake looked at Avon and read something that wasn't anger or hatred or even frustration. "Why? How long have you been trying?"

Avon sighed and let his head droop forward, until it was nearly touching Blake's. "Since the _London_. You are a stubborn bastard, you know that?"

"It has been said," Blake remarked. He reached up, hesitantly, to touch Avon's hair. Avon shuddered, and then moved in closer and wrapped his arms around Blake.

"Avon?"

"You've won. As usual," Avon said, muffled by the folds of Blake's tunic.

Blake rubbed Avon's bare back. "You're cold," he noted.

"It has been said," Avon replied.

"But you're not, are you?" Blake said, pulling back, and reaching out to tip Avon's face up to his. "I am so sorry that I hurt you. Not just tonight, but all the times when I forced you to do what I wanted."

Avon frowned. "You didn't," he said curtly. "I protested to make you slow down and think, but in the end, it was always my decision to follow."

"Not tonight, it wasn't." Blake released Avon.

Avon's frown deepened into a scowl. "Well, as long as we are having true confessions..." Avon took a deep breath. "I knew when I walked on the flight deck."

"Knew what?"

"About your little game with Zen. You weren't terribly discreet. Vila saw you one night." Avon was looking past Blake. "It upset him. As what seemed to him a natural consequence he got blind drunk and blurted it out to the first person he saw. Which happened to be me, fortunately. I ordered Zen to tell you the program was running when you asked for it, and to signal me,  
but _not_ to run it."

Blake got up, nearly knocking Avon over as he did. "And so you _let_ me rape you and feel like a monster, all so I'd give up the ship out of guilt? That was a dirty plan, Avon. And a dangerous one. I could have _killed_ you. Do you hate me as much as you love me?"

Avon was on his knees still, looking at the deck. He looked up at Blake. "No. I have never hated _you_."

Blake listened, as always, to what Avon wasn't saying. "But you have hated yourself? Enough to risk dying that way?"

Avon inclined his head in a noncommital fashion. "The odds seemed favorable. Either I removed one of us from the ship, or the situation was resolved in another way. It was beginning to seem that it didn't matter which way. I just wanted to have an end to it." Avon sounded very weary. "Even I get tired of empty rooms and cold nights."

"Avon, you are the biggest idiot, sometimes." Blake reached down and brought Avon up to stand next to him, leaning against him. "All you had to do was ask, love."

"I never learned how."

"Poor backwards child," Blake said teasingly.

"If you're going to be rude... come to think of it, if you're going to be rude why don't we do it in a cabin?"

"Someone ought to be on watch besides Zen," Blake said. "I'm not sure that I trust him at the moment. It shouldn't have been possible for you to get him to disobey me simply by ordering it. After all my commands were issued first."

"Oh, that." Avon smiled. "That was the easiest part. All I had to do was explain to Zen that obedience to your order was counter to his basic programming."

"It couldn't have been, or he wouldn't have obeyed in the first place."

"Ah, well, you see, it was a matter of semantics." Avon gave Blake a wicked grin. "I merely pointed out that he was 'interfering in crew's affairs'."

Blake winced. And then, to prevent Avon from coming out with any more puns, Blake proceeded to kiss him quite thoroughly.


End file.
